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Wylan still didn’t feel like he belonged in the Van Eck mansion.
He wasn’t sure he would ever.
Of course Jesper had been an absolute wonder in quelling those feelings, noticing the somewhat distant look he’d get walking through certain halls and snapping him out of it. Jesper helped tear down decorations and put up new ones. Jesper had held him, night after night, with no judgment at all.
Perhaps that was the worst part- Jesper was… Jesper did so, so, so much for Wylan. He couldn’t understand it in a way. He couldn’t do much for Jesper- all he could do was maybe play a few pretty songs and help with the occasional demo. Nothing of use. In fights, Jesper was the one who jumped in front of Wylan. In their home, Jesper was the one reading him all of the documents and helped him with the work he wouldn’t be able to do otherwise. And Wylan would lie awake at night, listening to Jespers breathing, feeling the weight of his arm over him, and all he wanted to do was throw up.
That was the thing that haunted Wylan- his father was utterly correct.
Wylan could remember, still, before his father found out he couldn’t read and still thought of him as his son. He remembers it all, and wished he could miraculously have the ability to read and write just for the sole purpose of never forgetting those moments. He doubted he could forget, but it-
It never felt like enough to rely simply on memorization. He didn’t feel like enough.
Jesper had been rambling on about something, the two lounged on their couch. Some bags were scattered around from their little grocery run- both of them being too lazy to put them away, and the staff were on break, so it would have to wait til later. Wylan was twisting the rings on his finger as he listened, eyes closed in relaxation. It was nice to sit down for once and not worry.
”And then-“ Jesper suddenly paused, nose crinkling. “Didn’t we forget to buy something at the store?”
Wylan stiffened a bit, which then he promptly forced himself to relax. Ridiculous. He wasn’t- he knew Jesper pausing like that and taking on that tone was just- just him. Not anything else. He knew Jesper would not lay a finger on him. He knew that. He knew that. He did. Why did he tense? It had been months since his father Jan Van Eck was thrown in Hellgate.
He forced a relaxed tone, and refused to lift his head from its position on Jespers shoulder. He didn’t want to look him in the eye, confirm if he noticed him tensing-
“Mm- maybe..?”
Jesper didn’t respond for a moment, running his hand up and down Wylans side. Normally this would be fine, pleasant even, but now he just felt on edge. Waiting, maybe. Rationally, he knew Jesper was probably just deep in thought trying to recall. But he didn’t want to look up and confirm that or not.
It was ridiculous he was- was so worked up. Maybe it was being in this Saints forsaken house again.
Then Jesper just shrugged, pressing a kiss to the top of Wylan’s head. “Probably not that important.”
He wasn’t sure if he replied or not, but it seemed satisfactory enough as he started to continue the story. Every word was a knot in his chest being undone, and he went back to fidgeting with Jespers rings as he started to continue the story.
Everytime the staff would bring groceries back, Wylan would busy himself with counting as a kid. Before his father would notice, or before the other maids came to put away the produce. He would mentally note how much of each thing there was, and observe to see how much was used. See if his father had enough ordered so it was possible he might receive a meal. It was an easy routine if he was not locked away in some other part of the mansion. Count, memorize, leave. Count, memorize, leave.
Wylan could remember thanking his father everytime he received a meal, and at those times he felt like it was normal to thank your parent for doing something as simple as feeding you. Looking back, he knew it was another way his father had manipulated him into thinking he was worthless. But some days, he saw nothing wrong with it. It was a privilege he got to receive meals, considering he could do nothing without being able to do something as simple as read his own name. It was a habit Jesper had been trying to urge out of him- “Love, you don’t need to thank me for anything- I mean, perhaps the staff who cooked the meal- but you deserve to eat, Wy. There’s not a condition to just eat.”
And everytime, he bit his tongue, guilt rushing through his body that Jesper worried over him over such little.
There was a time where his father would look at him after every meal, when he would actually give him a seat at the dinner table, and ask if he would like dessert. That chocolate mousse was something he’d never forget.
”Thank you, father,” he would say then, smiling wide enough his eyes crinkled. And his father would actually laugh, wiping off remaining chocolate from his mouth.
Wylan was having a panic attack. He was 90% sure he was. He was drumming his fingers over the desk- a bad habit he picked up from Jesper- and breathing irregularly. He was surprised the candle hadn’t been blown out yet by how long his exhales were getting in an attempt to steady his breathing.
Jesper was just a room away. He could get up and wake him up. But that would be ridiculous! He was exhausted from a long day of doing Kaz’s bidding, and he didn’t need Wylan to dump his problems on him.
Right.
The door then creaked open, and he jumped, turning so quickly he knocked over most of the papers on the desk and nearly the candle. He was sure he looked insane- hair sticking up, eyes wide- as Jesper walked in.
He laughed slightly, light and melodious and still clearly tired, as he saw Wylan’s reaction. But then he paused, smile dropping a bit.
“Is everything good, Wy..?” he mumbled, moving closer to wrap his arms around his shoulders, pressing a few kisses on the side of his face.
Wylan sighed, leaning back into the touch and swallowing hard. He was trying to control his breathing, but no doubt Jesper had noticed by now.
“I- it’s… it’s a lot.”
”I’ll listen to a lot.”